Above, Sylvester screeched.
Vylkor growled, raising his broadsword. “They’re still skulking up there.”
I tensed, hand reaching for my empty quiver. No more arrows to send a message.
But one needed to be sent.
Gods knew how many of them waited up there. Three Clans wouldn’t have sent only two hundred soldiers for a full attack.
We didn’t have the arms and weapons to fend off another wave and I couldn’t expect another miracle to come to our aid.
Some miracles could be created, though.
Heart pounding in my overheated chest, I jutted out my chin at Dax. “I need your help.”
He raised his brows, but huddled closer to me just the same.
“I need you to put on a show,” I whispered.
Dax grinned. “My specialty.”
“With your power.”
The smile faded from his face, which turned to weary stone.
Despite having all the powers Dria Vegheara had gifted us, Dax avoided them like poison. He hadn’t even busted out his tendrils when he’d been caught in the net.
I didn’t want to pick at that particular wound of his, but this was an emergency.
“I’ll chant, you channel,” I said. “I’m depleted. At best, I’ll faint right in the middle of it.”
At worst, my power would burn me from the inside out.
This was not the moment for weakness.
Dax nodded, lips tight. “What did you have in mind?”
“Remember what you said about tactics?”
“We’re finally killing them?”
“No, better.” I righted myself, staring at the rim with a grim satisfaction. “We’re going to scare them.”
Chapter 48
Ryker
“Ryker!”
I inhaled sharply, my energy barrelling back into me. The camp chaos rang in my ears and the sun, now partially hidden by angry clouds, blared back into view.
I lowered my face from the sky, heart still pounding. The insatiable heat that had tried to burn me alive had abated, but still pulsed through me.
Zandyr’s worried eyes stared back at me.
“How’s Calyx?” I rasped, the words scratching at my dry throat.
“Getting water and a stern talking-to as we speak.” Zandyr tilted his head. “Is The Huntress alright?”
